


Stings Like The First Time

by GotTheSilver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fuck Or Die, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuck or die with a twist.</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yeah, right - what?” Stiles sat up on the couch and shook his head, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I shouldn’t be here, I should - lock myself in my room or something.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“There’s no time,” Derek stood up and took a step back. “I can - you’re already -”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Oh fuck.”</i>
</p>
<p>Part of <a href="http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/">Trope Bingo</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stings Like The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Trope: Fuck or Die.
> 
> Title from Alkaline Trio - Calling All Skeletons.
> 
> See end notes if you're concerned about any dub-con. Fair warning, the end notes essentially contain spoilers.

“What did he take?”

Scott shrugged and pulled the jar of herbs from his backpack, “It was this, I think. He didn’t mean to take it, he just -”

“What?” Derek snapped.

“Sneezed.”

Derek rolled his eyes and took the jar from Scott. He looked at the label and groaned, “How long ago did it get into his system?”

“About 20 minutes ago,” Scott glanced at Stiles on Derek’s couch. “Why? Derek, what does it do? Is Stiles going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine. You should go.”

Scott frowned, “Why? What’s going to happen?”

“Nothing. He - it’s just going to screw up his brain for a while. It won’t hurt him.”

“Then why do I have to go?”

Derek looked at the ceiling and back at Scott, “In about ten minutes, Stiles is going to start thinking he has to have sex or he’ll die.”

“He inhaled sex pollen?” yelped Scott.

“No,” Derek sighed. “He’s not actually going to need to have sex. This mix, it’s just going to make him _think_ he needs to have sex, nothing bad will happen if he doesn’t.”

“So why do I have to go?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “You really want to be in the same building when your best friend starts thinking he needs to fuck anyone in sight?”

“No - I just. How long is it going to last?”

“How much did he inhale?”

“Not much. There was only a pinch of it on the table when he sneezed.”

“Then it shouldn’t last that long.”

Scott bit his lip and nodded, “He’ll be okay, right?”

A groan escaped from Stiles’ lips as he turned over on the couch.

“I swear, Scott, he’ll be fine. But you should go. Now.”

Scott glanced at Stiles, “Okay. Call me when he’s...better, I guess.”

Derek watched Scott leave and leant against the wall. Stiles was on his front, his face turned to side, his mouth slightly open. He’d been more or less unconscious since Scott dumped him on Derek’s couch, but Derek knew that wouldn’t last much longer. Derek only had theoretical knowledge about the herb, he dimly recalled listening at the top of the stairs to stories being told by the adults in his family before his mom had caught him and shooed him off to bed. It was only in the last year he’d been able to start filling the gaps in his knowledge. Despite Peter’s insistence on buying every product Apple ever produced, there was still a lot of information that was only available in books. There was something fulfilling about being able to touch the pages of a book, knowledge became tangible. Derek could stare at a screen for hours and not take in information, but with a book it was just there - simple, easy.

Stiles let out a whine, his back arched and Derek closed his eyes for a moment before kneeling beside the couch. He touched Stiles gently on the shoulder, shaking him a little. “Stiles, wake up, come on.”

Stiles turned his head towards Derek and blinked, “Derek? Wha -”

“Listen to me. You inhaled a herb, it’s going to make you think you need to have sex. Nothing bad is going to happen if you don’t, but your brain is - it’ll try and fool you to get you to have sex. I’m telling you this now because I want you to know I promise I won’t do anything to you.”

“Yeah, right - what?” Stiles sat up on the couch and shook his head, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I shouldn’t be here, I should - lock myself in my room or something.”

“There’s no time,” Derek stood up and took a step back. “I can - you’re already -”

“Oh fuck.”

-

Derek had hidden in the kitchen. He could hear Stiles on the couch gasping, moaning and having a visual to go along with that would permanently damage what little was left of Derek’s sanity. Stiles had shown incredible self restraint by not trying to look for Derek, and Derek didn’t know how much longer it would last. Hiding in his kitchen was starting to make him feel like a coward, he steeled himself and stepped back into the living room.

A sickly sweet smell permeated the room, made him gag when it hit the back of his throat, but Derek kept going until he was leaning against the wall furthest away from the couch. He shot a glance at Stiles and swallowed a groan. Stiles was on his back, his legs spread, hand palming his crotch. Derek thanked whatever deity he could that Stiles’ jeans were still on and tried to avoid looking at the way Stiles was biting his bottom lip.

“Derek?” Stiles breathed out, his eyes barely open. “I’m trying not to - fuck - I’m trying -”

“You don’t have to talk, Stiles.”

“This is the worst - I thought I was horny before, teenage boy not getting laid but this - shit - I can’t -”

One of Stiles’ hands gripped the edge of the couch as he pressed his hips up, seeking friction. Derek snorted, trying hard not to stare. The smell helped, it was unnatural, nothing like Stiles’ normal scent. It wasn’t long before Stiles gave up on his hand and flipped himself over, a relieved sigh as he ground himself against the couch cushions. Derek shook his head and resigned himself to getting a new couch, there was no way he’d be able to sit on it without thinking about Stiles like this.

“Derek,” Stiles whined. “I need to - ugh - I need to fuck,” Stiles pressed his face against a cushion, hips rolling rhythmically.

“You know this is in your head,” Derek sighed and raked an eye over him. “Stiles, are you even hard?” He regretted asking the question as soon as it left his mouth.

“S’you,” Stiles muttered into the fabric. “I’m always hard around you.”

Derek’s eyebrows raised and he bit his lip. He’s fairly certain he wasn’t meant to hear that. If Stiles was in his right mind he’d never say something like that, all too aware of werewolf hearing. Derek glanced at the clock on the wall and withheld a groan. At least another hour to go. A breathy sigh escaped Stiles’ mouth and Derek wondered how he was supposed to make it through. He really should’ve made Scott take care of this.

-

At some point in the last thirty minutes, Stiles had managed to lose his tops. His plaid shirt was thrown over the back of the couch, his slogan tee bunched on the floor and Derek was holding on by a thread. There were beads of sweat dotted across Stiles’ skin, the red flush that Derek had so often seen on Stiles’ cheeks had spread down his chest and his mouth - filth tumbled out of his mouth constantly.

Derek had dug his claws into his thighs so many times that his healing was having a hard time keeping up, his jeans were soaked with blood. Stiles hadn’t moved from the couch, he’d been trying so desperately hard not to give in to the herb’s effects, his body straining with the effort of staying away from Derek.

“How much longer?” Stiles asked, his voice hoarse.

“Not long,” Derek said. “You’re going to be fine, Stiles.”

“Yeah,” Stiles licked his lips. “Yeah, okay. I trust you.”

Derek closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The sickly sweet smell had started to fade, Stiles’ usual scent seeping through bit by bit, helping Derek regain control over his claws. Stiles whined, his hands twisted into fists by his sides, “I don’t know what to do, Derek.”

“You’re doing really well, Stiles,” Derek’s body ached with the effort of stopping himself from comforting Stiles, touching Stiles. “You’re strong enough to get through this.”

“No, no I’m not,” Stiles shook his head. “Not strong.”

“Yes you are. You’ve made it through worse things than this, don’t you dare tell me this herb is going to beat you when all you’ve faced over the last few years never did. You’re strong Stiles, you can make it.”

Stiles let out a choked sob and tilted his head back, neck exposed and Derek’s eyes focused on the clock as it ticked away. He counted down the minutes in his head as Stiles’ scent grew stronger, until it finally - finally - overpowered the cloying, sickly sweet scent. Derek looked over at Stiles and sighed in relief when Stiles’ body relaxed. He waited for Stiles’ breathing to even out before he made his way over to the couch.

“Hey,” Derek rested a hand on Stiles’ arm. “You okay?”

“It’s over?”

“It’s over.”

“Then I’m okay,” he turned his head to look at Derek. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

Stiles waved a hand in the air, “For not - for looking after me.”

“You think I wouldn’t?”

“No, I know you would. Seems like that’s all you do lately,” Stiles said bitterly.

“Stiles - you’re not a - do you think you’re a burden?”

Stiles shrugged and looked away. Derek moved onto the couch, lifted Stiles’ legs and held them on his lap firmly when Stiles tried to shrink away.

“Derek, let me go,” Stiles struggled against Derek’s grip.

“No. You’re going to sit here until you think you’re not a burden anymore.”

Stiles snorted, “We may be here awhile.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Can I put my t-shirt back on?”

Derek leant over and fished the top off the floor, he handed it to Stiles who rolled his eyes before pulling it on haphazardly. Stiles sank as far back into the couch as he could with Derek still having a grip on his legs. Derek took in the look on Stiles’ face and ran a hand along Stiles’ calf in an attempt to relax him.

“It’s not that I -” Stiles broke off and frowned. “I know I’m not useless, okay? I know everything I’ve done for you, for the pack but I’m still - I still end up in situations like this. You having to look after me because I inhaled goddamn magic herbs.”

“Stiles, shut up.”

“Wow, really helping there.”

Derek glared at Stiles before he spoke, “Do you not remember Isaac irritating the faerie king three months ago and being cursed to speak in rhyme for a week? Or Scott having to literally turn tail and run from two frost demons because he stumbled across them mating?”

“He still shudders when he goes near ice,” smiled Stiles, poking his toes into Derek’s thigh.

“You’re not the only one who gets into these situations, Stiles.”

“And they’re meant to have supernatural powers.”

“Exactly,” Derek raised an eyebrow, his fingers lightly kneading Stiles’ leg.

Stiles’ eyes darted to where Derek was touching him. Derek watched Stiles worry his bottom lip with his teeth and removed his hand. Stiles made a protesting noise, his mouth dropping open and Derek tentatively put his hand back, cataloguing Stiles’ reaction as he touched him.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

Derek looked down, avoiding Stiles’ eyes, and tried to ignore the instinct telling him to run. “Do you want to be doing something?”

Stiles groaned in frustration, “Why do you think I tried so hard to fight the effects of the herb, Derek? I didn’t want - if something were to happen, I didn’t want it to be because I couldn’t control what I was doing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Stiles crossed his arms and stared at Derek. “Oh. So?”

Derek tugged on Stiles’ pant leg, “Come here.”

Stiles frowned and Derek rolled his eyes, grabbed at Stiles legs until Stiles got the message and maneuvered himself to straddle Derek’s lap, his knees either side of Derek’s thighs. Derek looked up at Stiles, suddenly overwhelmed by everything in front of him. He had no idea what was going on - Stiles’ eyes widened as he gazed at Derek - he felt a fluttering in his chest as Stiles reached a hand out, his heartbeat sped up as Stiles cupped his face and leaned in. Derek heard the hitch in Stiles’ breath as he met Derek’s eyes before closing the small gap between them and kissing Derek softly.

“So we’re doing that?” asked Stiles when he pulled back, a small smile on his face.

Derek returned the smile and tipped them both to the side, cushioning Stiles’ landing with his body.

“What the -” Stiles spluttered as Derek manhandled him until they were both laying on the couch, facing each other. “Freaky werewolf skills,” muttered Stiles.

“Shut up,” Derek said, nosing at Stiles’ throat. “You like my freaky werewolf skills.” He threw a leg over Stiles’ hips and pulled Stiles closer.

“It’s my curse in life,” Stiles sighed, his hand seeking Derek’s, tangling their fingers together.

Derek pressed a kiss against Stiles’ jaw and closed his eyes, breathing in Stiles’ scent. He couldn’t get enough, wanted to drown himself in it and would, if Stiles hadn’t tapped his face with his fingers. Derek met Stiles’ eyes and kissed him, opening his mouth to suck at Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles groaned when Derek nipped softly at his lip and pulled back slightly. Derek chased him, dotting quick kisses against Stiles’ lips before he leaned back, his breathing heavy.

Stiles dragged their joined hands to his mouth and placed light kisses along Derek’s knuckles. Derek’s chest tightened, he couldn’t remember the last time someone was so gentle with him, before the fire perhaps, afterwards Laura was never quite this gentle, never treated him like he might break, like he was precious. Stiles dropped their hands and yawned, his mouth ridiculously wide.

Derek smirked, “Tired?”

“Uh huh,” Stiles nodded and blinked. “Don’t look at me like that, having your brain messed with takes it out of you. And you’re all warm.”

Derek hummed and stroked a hand down Stiles’ side, rolled onto his back and let Stiles sprawl on top of him. Stiles took his time getting comfortable, rested his head against Derek’s chest and almost went boneless when Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles. “Go to sleep, Stiles.”

“M’kay,” Stiles muttered.

-

Stiles’ mouth stayed open as he slept. Derek couldn’t stop himself from staring at it, was only torn away when his phone buzzed. He reached into his pocket to take it out, careful not to jostle Stiles too much, and tapped the screen.

**From: Scott.**

**is stiles ok?**

Derek sighed and tapped out a quick reply.

**To: Scott.**

**He’s fine. He’s asleep.**

**From: Scott.**

**wht? whys he asleep? wht hppnd?**

Sometimes Derek wanted to kill whoever decided text speak was a valid choice in life.

**To: Scott.**

**It took a lot out of him. He’ll be fine once he’s rested.**

**From: Scott.**

**k. tell him to call me whn he can.**

**To: Scott.**

**I will.**

Derek switched his phone to silent and dropped it on the floor. Stiles hadn’t even stirred, his body completely relaxed against Derek. Derek lightly grazed a hand down Stiles’ back and smiled softly when Stiles unconsciously shivered. He pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head and closed his eyes, enjoying the comforting weight of Stiles against him.

-

Stiles jerked awake and bashed the top of his head into Derek’s jaw, he swore loudly and clutched the top of his head. Derek blinked and reached for Stiles, rubbing a hand over Stiles’ head.

“What did you do that for?”

“Do what? Your jaw assaulted me,” whimpered Stiles.

“If you hadn’t woken up flailing, you’d be fine.”

“So sorry that my blinding pain has inconvenienced your waking up routine.”

“As you should be,” smirked Derek. He let go of Stiles and watched appreciatively as Stiles sat up and rocked back on his heels, his ass resting on Derek’s thighs. “You okay?”

Stiles nodded, “I took worse knocks as a kid.”

“I really, really believe that.”

“How come you’re never such a smartass to anyone else, huh? Why is it always me?”

Derek shrugged and took Stiles’ hand, “Maybe you bring it out in me.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. A soft smile played at the edge of his lips, “Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah. Good.”

Derek narrowed his eyes, he could tell Stiles wasn’t saying something, but the look on his face didn’t suggest anything bad. He reached down to grab his phone and threw it at Stiles, “Here. Call Scott.”

“Okay?” Stiles shot him a puzzled look but did as Derek said.

Derek tuned out most of the conversation Stiles had with Scott, only raising an eyebrow when Stiles stammered over explaining what he was still doing at Derek’s hours after the herbs had worn off.

Stiles ended the call and handed the phone back to Derek. He looked at his watch and winced. Derek sighed, “You need to get home?”

“Yeah,” Stiles rested his palm against Derek’s chest. “I don’t - you know I’d stay if I could, right?”

Derek hauled himself up and wrapped his arms around Stiles, one hand cradling Stiles’ head against his shoulder. He buried his face in Stiles’ neck and breathed in, indulged himself in how _right_ Stiles’ scent was now that the herb had faded. Stiles sighed and clung to Derek.

“I really do have to get home,” Stiles mumbled before he let go of Derek and straightened up.

“I know,” Derek said as they unravelled themselves. “You need me to drive?”

“Shit, yeah,” Stiles stood up. “I mean, if you don’t -”

Derek shook his head and got to his feet. He grabbed his jacket, checked the keys were in the pocket and ushered Stiles out the door.

The drive was quiet, Stiles occasionally tapping his fingers against the dash. Derek pulled up down the street from Stiles’ house and switched the car off.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

“What?” Stiles stared at him. “Yes, totally. Totally okay, why would you think I wasn’t?”

“You’re being quiet.”

“It’s nothing to do with, uh, us,” Stiles’ skin flushed as he spoke. “It’s the herb, the - my mind is hard enough to control when it’s just me in there. Being under the influence of something that strong was - I’m not really sure how to deal with it.”

Derek stroked his fingers along the back of Stiles’ neck, “You did deal with it. Stiles, I wasn’t lying when I said you were strong. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I kind of wish I had your werewolf lie detector skills right now.”

“You’re just going to have to trust me.”

Stiles leant in and kissed Derek on the cheek, “I do trust you.”

Derek’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers feeling Stiles’ pulse race in his neck. “I trust you too,” he said quickly, stumbling over the words. They felt alien in his mouth, it had been a long time since Derek had said that out loud to anyone.

Stiles smiled, a wide happy smile that sent warmth spreading through Derek’s chest. Derek’s lips twitched and he leaned over, sliding his lips over Stiles’ mouth. He kissed him slow and easy, relished in the way Stiles’ heart momentarily stuttered when Derek gripped his knee. Stiles’ pupils were blown when Derek pulled back, his lips shiny, and Derek couldn’t resist pressing one last kiss to his lips before he sat back. Derek glanced over at Stiles, “You should go.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “I know.”

“And yet you’re not moving.”

“Maybe I’m enjoying being in your presence,” laughed Stiles.

Derek smirked, “That’ll be pretty hard to do if you get grounded.”

Stiles placed his hand over Derek’s and squeezed lightly before letting go. He climbed out of the car and paused before ducking his head back in, “FYI, my window’s unlocked.”

Derek shook his head and watched Stiles jog down the street. He switched the engine on and steered the Camaro down the road, checked to make sure Stiles made it into the house safely before he sped off, his brain racing. Derek knew he’d be back later, sneaking through Stiles’ window, but he needed a break, needed to get some space to clear his head. Stiles had no idea how easily he could destroy Derek, no idea of the power he held over him. As much as Derek wanted to give in, wanted to have Stiles surrounding him always, he was haunted by the last time he thought he felt like that. Derek knew Stiles wasn’t Kate, was the furthest thing from Kate, but he had to - he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. It was hard, he’d always known it would be hard, but he - Stiles was worth it. Derek just had to keep telling himself that.

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles inhales a herb that makes him think his body will give out on him if he doesn't have sex, but it won't. It messes with his perceptions, not his body chemistry and he is fully aware of that. No actual fuck or die scenario occurs, therefore, no dub-con/non-con.


End file.
